


Trauma – Seungmin

by InoruMarufuji



Series: Nightmare [8]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bine you have a VIP pass so feel free to enter, Bine's Birthday Celebration: SKZ Nightmare Series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Disjointed narrative, Gen, Hallucinations, I don't think there's any hope for me, Keep walking, No Spoilers, Puzzle fic, THIS HELL IS MEMBERS ONLY, They aren't specified because spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, lots and lots of it, triggering elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InoruMarufuji/pseuds/InoruMarufuji
Summary: [M̳a̳z̳e̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳M̳e̳m̳o̳r̳i̳e̳s̳|Side Effects][8/9] So, should I give up. - Maze of Memories
Series: Nightmare [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569787
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Trauma – Seungmin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken/gifts).



> Bine, you already know that this oneshot is my favorite, but just for added stress: This one is my favorite!

[ **Maze of Memories** | ~~Side Effects~~ ]

Seungmin hated the dorm.

It hadn't always been like that, of course not, but with the way things had developed, he hated just about everything it stood for, everything it represented and everyone who had nestled into the fake comfort granted by those lying walls, lying pieces of furniture and lying people.

It was a dorm full of lies, each and every one painted in great detail on the ceilings, the floors or wherever was convenient really, and they remained there as an ugly picture, a reminder of their trauma in red and black and blue and white.

No one bothered to remove them, no one even acknowledged their existence and Seungmin honestly thought he was going crazy every time he saw Changbin scraping past a lie in the doorframe or Chan relaxing on that disgusting lie on the sofa or Felix cooking up something for dinner in that pan full of lies.

They were everywhere and he hated it.

He could scrub the floor for hours on end, until it was so clean that he could see his own reflection in the wood, tired and on edge, nervous and paranoid, but as soon as he did so much as exit the room, the lies would climb up from between the floarboards and sit on the clean floor like insects.

And they really were.

He could feel them crawling on his skin, sucking and biting into his flesh, trying to taint him by injecting their poison into him, but he wouldn't let them.

Whenever he felt them anywhere on his body, he scratched his skin bloody, sometimes with his nails, sometimes with sharp objects, and let steaming hot water run over the wound to cleanse it of all parasites.

There was a certain kind of satisfaction in watching pieces of his skin get flushed down the drain with the red water, knowing he was killing thousands of lies with just this simple act, but at the same time, he was disturbed by his gruesome practice, at the same time, he had to admit that it really didn't do much.

Because just when he thought he was clean again, those pesky lies returned, sitting down in his fresh wounds as if it was no one's business, forcing him to scratch even harder, cut even deeper in an attempt to remove them once and for all.

He was pretty sure he had damaged at least one or two layers of skin to the point where it was irreversible, but he didn't care as long as it would keep the lies, the insects away.

They always chose the same spots on his skin, just below his left knee, on his right shoulder and on his chest and he was grateful about the fact that those were all spots that couldn't be easily seen at first glance.

Because if his members were to see any of these wounds, they would surely freak out, maybe even drag him to a psychiatry or a hospital where he wouldn't be able to scratch anymore, where the insects would roam over his body freely and bite into him as if he was a tasty snack.

Worst of all though, they would accuse him of self-harm when that was clearly not what he was doing.

He didn't self-harm. He didn't.

And he didn't understand why people would even think he did.

Nobody called it self-harm when people got rid of their head lice, so why would they call it self-harm when all he did was try to get rid of some parasites as well?

He didn't self-harm.

He just wanted to get rid of these parasites that kept infesting him, him and everyone else in their dorm.

Seungmin could see the lies on their bodies as well, how they feasted on his members, how they walked all over the people he loved the most and left their gross marks on their skin.

They never bothered to get rid of them as far as he could tell and it showed.

There were flocks of insects scuttling all over Minho's hand, there were dark marks on Changbin's cheek and a sickening substance dripping from Jisung's hair.

Seungmin couldn't bring himself to touch any of them in fear of getting even more lies on him, in fear of one of them discovering his wounds, suggesting he needed help.

He didn't need help. He didn't. Why would he?

They were the ones infested with lies, they were the ones who neglected to take care of themselves like he did, so it was only natural that he stayed as far away from them as he could.

''Why are you scrubbing the floor again?''

Seungmin looked up from his position on the floor, his back aching from being hunched over for so long and his hands itching from touching the lie infected water in the bucket.

Trying to explain his reasoning to his friend would only result in confused stares, so he merely let a smile slip on his face.

''It was dirty'', he answered simply, but of course Hyunjin didn't buy that.

He never did.

''And now the truth?''

''It is the truth.''

He dipped the rag into the water again, resisting the urge to grimace as he saw the black and red and white and blue spots on it, and was about to continue scrubbing when the cloth was taken away from him all of a sudden.

Seungmin watched in awe as it became completely grey again under Hyunjin's touch, all lies dispersing into thin air as if they were scared of him.

They didn't just go into hiding like they always did when he cleaned the room, waiting under the floorboards until it was safe to come out again, no, near Hyunjin they straight up evaporated and it was so satisfying to watch.

It was fascinating, but it always happened.

Whereas Seungmin had to spend hours to wipe the floor clean, Hyunjin could merely _look_ at it and it was just as neat and tidy as before.

Lies were physically incapable of sticking to his body or even so much as exist around him, so Seungmin made sure to stick to his side whenever possible in hopes that some of that purity, some of that truth would migrate over to him as well.

It never did, but at least the lies left him alone a little more whenever he was near Hyunjin.

It was risky, of course, he absolutely couldn't let his guard down, but it was worth the payoff in the end.

''The floor is as clean as can be, you need to take a break.''

As clean as could be, huh.

Seungmin observed the dark lies that slithered across the floor, along the walls and on the ceiling like snakes and he unconsciously shivered, an action that didn't go unnoticed.

''Hey, are you okay?''

Hyunjin's expression crumbled in concern and Seungmin just knew he was going to try and hug him in an attempt at comfort, the mere thought of it enough to cause his shoulder to suddenly start feeling itchy.

He couldn't let him see.

''Seungmin?''

His hand twitched as lies were all over him again and he resisted the urge to scream when something wet suddenly dripped on his hair from above, most likely another one of those lies that liked to loom over him, painting ugly, menacing words on the ceiling as stories that he tried so desperately to tune out.

Although he should have known better, his gaze flickered up to the ceiling out of morbid curiosity.

_Felix tried to kill himself yesterday, where were you then?_

''Shut up...''

His voice came out weaker than he wanted it to be and he could almost _feel_ the font smirk at his conscience-stricken reaction.

_Who was it that wrote his suicide note?_

The words were like a slap in the face.

How... How in the world did the lies know?

He stared up at them, shaking, floundering, pushed into this corner with no means of escape.

He barely registered Hyunjin addressing him, waving his hand in front of Seungmin's face, grabbing him by his shoulders.

His _shoulders_.

He flinched violently, but did nothing to stop the burning pain consuming his entire being except stare at the ceiling helplessly, feigning ignorance in front of powers that knew him better than this.

''It wasn't me.''

_Who was it?_

They expected an answer. Seungmin didn't have one.

He refused to have one.

Even as a simple word, a familiar name burned on his tongue, he couldn't spit it out, he couldn't get it past his lips because it was such a horrible thing to say and an even more horrible thing to realize.

So he gave a different answer.

''Felix.''

The lies snickered to themselves. Seungmin's wounds itched.

His eyes stung.

He didn't know what they wanted to hear from him.

He _didn't._

He shook his head and stumbled towards the door, wanting to get out of the kitchen and escape them, them and their soundless laughter as they made fun of him.

Hyunjin seemed to call him back, yet didn't make a move to follow him, which he was thankful for since he really needed some time for himself right now to sort out and process what the hell had just happened.

He passed through the doorframe, expecting to see the dorms' hallway that lead towards the bedrooms.

But he entered the kitchen instead.

Changbin was there, standing across from Jisung, lies running all over him as he was shaking in what Seungmin could only assume to be rage.

An eerie silence hung in the air, no words were exchanged between them, but it wasn't necessary either way, the tension in the room told him everything he needed to know.

The cold gazes on both sides, the way Changbin's hand twitched, the way Jisung's mouth was pressed into a thin line, the way he was trembling, the way he was holding on to something behind his back, hidden from sight, it was all so clear what this was about.

''I don't know what you want from me'', Jisung stated shakily, completely ignoring the lie that was curling around his neck as if it was trying to choke him.

Seungmin unconsciously backed away, not wanting to interfere when he didn't have a clue what was going on, but as he took a first, hesitant step, Changbin suddenly scoffed.

''This is not a fucking joke, Jisung. He tried to kill himself.''

Jisung visibly flinched, but made no other acknowledgement of his hyung's words as he clutched the object behind his back tighter.

''Give me the paper.''

''Give me Minho.''

Silence.

Silence that dragged on for far too long to pass as casual.

''What did you do to Minho?''

Jisung had managed to stabilize both his voice and his demeanor a little, some of his usual confidence returning to mix with the frustration and anger that even Seungmin could feel radiate off him.

''I didn't do anything, what the hell are you on about?''

''Bullshit!''

Something tore, the sound of ripping paper penetrating the tension in the room and Changbin lunged at Jisung, knocking him down on the tainted floor where the lies came crawling from between the floorboards, gnawing at the two boys and the paper they were fighting over.

Seungmin's shoulder itched and before he was aware of it, he scratched at his wounds despite his better judgement, despite knowing that scratching only attracted more lies, more resilient ones, more aggressive ones.

The blood from his shoulder drenched his shirt in scarlet, tinted the tips of his nails, dripped on the floor and dried as a dark brown, but he was way past the point of finding it alarming.

He was way past the point of finding anything alarming.

And that was alarming.

He'd expected himself to have a bigger reaction upon walking in on one of his best friends hanging himself, sputtering, choking, body kicking and squirming in an attempt at self-preservation as his hands had uselessly tugged at the rope around his neck in panic.

He'd expected himself to freak out, vomit, go completely rigid, maybe even pass out, but nothing like that had happened.

Instead, he had calmly gotten rope cutters from their garage and cut through the ropes without any trace of panic in his movements, watching Felix slip out of that death trap he'd been stuck in and dropping to the floor as a heap of incomprehensible crying and begging and heaving for air.

The blinds had been up, so the sun had perfectly accentuated the marks on his neck that had stemmed from the rope.

Only from the rope?

Seungmin doubted it.

He had rolled the blinds down anyway because he already knew. He hadn't needed any confirmation and he still didn't.

He hadn't been alarmed because he'd known it was bound to happen, so he had merely intervened quietly like this, put Felix back to bed and pretended to never have seen anything.

But of course the lies had shown up, knocking on their windows, appearing out of the drain, slithering into their home.

''Give me the paper, Jisung!''

Several thuds resonated through the quiet room as Jisung's head was repeatedly bashed onto the floor, blood pooling under him from a wound that Seungmin couldn't see.

''Why? You want to destroy even more evidence?!''

Jisung was fighting for all he was worth, pulling at Changbin's hair, clawing at his face, pushing him with all his might while desperately clutching the paper, crumpling it up with his hand, tearing it up, trying to make it disappear.

The scene was unreal.

It was a hallucination, a product of Seungmin's mind, a distorted replay of events that had already happened, and as soon as he acknowledged this fact, the members immediately dissolved into air, just like the lies had dissolved under Hyunjin's touch.

All that remained was the piece of paper on the ground and he bent down to read what was written there even if he already knew the words.

_Sorry._

_I'm sorry. I really am._

It wasn't signed, it wasn't addressing anyone, it was just so _vague_ that it left a bitter taste in Seungmin's mouth because he knew Felix and he knew he wouldn't write a suicide note like this if he were to write one at all.

The first time the note had fallen into his hands, he had burned it purely for this reason, not even bothering to show it to anyone.

But he should have known the lies had a perfect copy of the note in their possession and he should have known they were all too eager to spread it once more after he had found the ominous box stacked away under Felix's bed, put there in such a way that someone just _had_ to come across it.

_To Chan_

_I'm sorry things turned out like this._

_I'm sorry to you in particular since I know you will have to carry the members' pain and sorrows, but I simply cannot go on like this._

_I'm sorry._

The second note he had burned, the second note that hadn't spoken to him in Felix's voice and the second attempt that he had intervened just like this.

It could have almost been a pattern, a cruel, humorless one but a pattern nonetheless, but of course nothing worked out like expected and all of a sudden, all signs of attempted suicide had vanished from the dorm, all ropes gone, all sleeping pills gone, all notes gone.

Almost as if nothing had happened at all.

But the lies. They were still there.

And by god, he was going to burn the entire dorm down if they didn't get the hell out of it.

_Who was it?_

He knew of course, but he kept quiet.

His skin was on fire from where he kept scratching relentlessly, his body protesting against the abuse he was putting it through, but he didn't stop.

He couldn't.

There were still lies comfortably nestled into his wounds, lies he couldn't get rid of if he didn't resort to drastic measures.

So he did.

He was done trying to scrub floors to no avail, he was done ripping apart his skin and giving the lies more access to his flesh than they already had, he was done keeping everything to himself.

He was done with his members, with this dorm, with the lies, but most of all, he was done with himself.

Seungmin knew the contents of every cupboard, every closet, every box that existed in the dorm, so he knew of course where Chan kept the gasoline that was meant for their lawn mower and he also knew where he could find a lighter.

It was so easy and he felt both excited and scared about being able to do this all on his own without anyone knowing, without anyone trying to stop him, shouting at him why he was doing this or deeming him unstable or insane.

It was just him in this house after Jisung had left, him and Felix, and as soon as he realized that, his mind halted all thinking about the plan that it had begun to form.

He needed to check on Felix.

He couldn't do this with him present in the dorm.

The lies on the wall laughed at him as he exited the kitchen a second time, the hallway appearing in front of him, looking all innocent if it weren't for the black and blue and white and red on the walls, but he forced himself to keep his gaze on the floor, to not look at his surroundings in fear that they would change again.

Words formed on the floorboards, words that he couldn't ignore, no matter how quickly he tried to get past them.

_Your mind has wandered off to a dark place lately, right?_

Seungmin didn't reply, not willing to let some hallucinations get the better of him, and reached out to open the door that lead to Felix's room, not missing the red canister that had been neatly placed next to the frame.

He'd planned this and yet he still managed to feel appalled as he picked it up and slowly pushed against the door so as to not scare Felix.

It really wasn't necessary, seeing how the boy was all but passed out on his bed again, having only been awake for a short time before falling back into unconsciousness.

He looked pained, his face scrunched up, his breathing strangely irregular and heavy and beads of sweat dripping from his flushed body.

He was obviously sick, had been for a while now, but it just didn't get better and the members were speculating that someone might have poisoned him.

Seungmin guessed it was a half-truth at best and a dangerous misconception at worst, but then again, what did he know?

His gaze fell on a little white paper on Felix's nightstand and he curiously picked it up with his free hand.

_I made him sick, didn't I?_

Just a simple question, one that held all the blame he could have imagined, but it wasn't signed and Seungmin was tired of people not signing the shit they wrote.

He was done with people being so vague and mysterious.

The paper burst into flames and he stared at it for a second longer, the light reflecting in his eyes, fascinating him.

And then he dropped it right into the pit of lies on the floor.

He watched them scatter in panic, some of them disappearing towards the door, some of them quick to climb Felix's bed in an attempt to save themselves.

But like hell would he let them get away.

No, not when he had them right where he wanted them to have.

Ready to be burned down.

He almost poured the entire canister of gasoline on Felix, the boy not really conscious enough to realize it anyway as the substance was running down his body and down the bed, coming to a stop right in front of Seungmin's feet.

He stepped back, bringing some distance between himself and the bed, and emptied the rest of the canister over his own head.

It stung as the liquid invaded the wound on his shoulder, it stung and hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced, but the pain wouldn't persist.

Nothing would persist in this dorm once he had reduced it to ashes.

His fingers closed around the lighter he kept in his pocket and he pulled it out to hold it to his shirt.

He was shaking, but whether it was from excitement or fear, he wasn't sure.

Not like it mattered.

He flicked the lighter on.

''I'll forgive you, Minho.''

[8/9] If you can carry the weight of hidden secrets


End file.
